


4:17 a.m. in a motel south of Laramie

by okaynowkiss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:35:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaynowkiss/pseuds/okaynowkiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wakes up and doesn’t know why, just blinks into consciousness in the still-dark motel room. There’s no movement, no disturbance, no out-of-place sound — all Dean hears is Cas’s breathing from the other bed, like always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	4:17 a.m. in a motel south of Laramie

He wakes up and doesn’t know why, just blinks into consciousness in the still-dark motel room. There’s no movement, no disturbance, no out-of-place sound — all Dean hears is Cas’s breathing from the other bed, like always.

Except it’s not right.

Cas’s breaths aren’t slow and relaxed with sleep, they’re purposeful and deep, like when you’re trying to calm yourself down.

The thin curtains are pulled closed but this motel is as cheap as they come so streetlight is shining in anyway. When Dean turns his head he sees Cas sitting up in bed, head in his hands, back hunched. Oh. His t-shirt is pulled tight over the muscles of his shoulders, and it’s riding up over the skin above his shorts. Like he’s human and small.

Because he’s human and small.

Dean pushes back the covers and slides his feet to the floor, sitting up in one motion. He’s too quiet, though, because Cas doesn’t even move, and Dean doesn’t actually want to startle him when he goes over there. “Hey,” he says, voice a rough half-whisper, trying to make it gentle.

Cas turns to him: he looks caught, and he doesn’t say anything, not even when Dean gets up and crosses the few feet of space between their beds.

Cas is pretty far down from the head of the bed, where he’s sitting, like he just sat up from sleeping and stayed there. Dean takes a seat on the edge of the bed just behind him and wraps his arms around Cas. He purposefully does not think too much about this. His cheek rests in the expanse above Cas’s right shoulder blade, and with his hands around Cas’s chest and middle, Dean can feel how Cas is keeping his body tense. He hasn’t moved, but he’s resisting just relaxing into the hug, which is fine. Which is sort of what Dean expected.

Cas never wants anyone to help him too much. He gets offended when Dean explains something to him — how to tie a tie or fill a car with gas — like he doesn’t already know it. “I’m not actually a child,” he’ll say. Which is true. 

And so Dean keeps it in mind, when they hunt together, and stops himself from telling Cas much of anything even when he wants to. It doesn’t usually matter much. Cas can’t order coffee without confusing a waitress, but he can tell time by the stars without blinking, so it evens out. He blends in when he has to.

But there are probably things even angels who’ve been alive for thousands of years don’t understand, even if they don’t want to say, and this is probably one of those things. You can just wake up scared and sad. You can not remember your dreams and still be crushed by them. You can be five feet away from somebody and it can make you lonelier than if you were by yourself on a boat with a hundred miles of open ocean on every side.

“I’m fine,” Cas says eventually.

“Good,” Dean agrees, jaw moving against Cas’s shirt as he says it, and Cas doesn’t tell him to let go so he doesn’t. He shifts and rests his chest more fully against Cas’s back, and re-situates his arms around Cas’s ribs.

Cas is warm and solid and Dean loses track of time. He might even fall asleep a little. At some point he feels Cas’s hands on his arms, but he isn’t succumbing to the hug. He gently disentangles himself from Dean.

Cas turns to him while Dean’s rubbing blearily at his eyes, blinking awake for the second time. “It’s okay,” he tells Dean. “It’s nothing.”

Dean nods and stands from the bed. He crawls back under his own covers and lays his head on his arms, already most of the way back to sleep. “Night,” he murmurs, into his own skin.

He hears Cas lay back down and arrange the covers. And even though Cas says it quietly, he also hears him say “Thanks,” before they both fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> [cross-posted to tumblr](http://angeltabletting.tumblr.com/post/79847573129/4-17-a-m-in-a-motel-south-of-laramie-he-wakes)


End file.
